


Five times Peter met the Avengers as Spider-Man and the one time he met them as Peter

by noalarmsandnosuprises



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, It Gets Better, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, everyones becoming friends again merry christmas, you can tell i dont like cap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-04-07 03:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19076614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noalarmsandnosuprises/pseuds/noalarmsandnosuprises
Summary: A series of stories about our friendly-neighbourhood Spider-Man meeting the Avengers masked and the one time he met them with the mask off.





	1. Mission: Diss Captain America

**Author's Note:**

> wow u can tell I don't know how 2 write anything but 5+1 lol

When Peter was seven, his Uncle had crawled into the manhole inside the roof of their Queen’s apartment and brought down a heavy cardboard box, graffitied with a child’s scrawl and stickers. He had presented it to Peter with a smile.

Inside was the comics and figurines Uncle Ben had accumulated over his childhood. Some were make-believe ones, at the bottom of the box. Others were Captain America comics, lovingly dog-eared and encased in plastic sleeves. Peter had taken them out, awestruck. He’d read them over and over again, stacking them behind his beloved Iron Man figurines and helmet. As he grew older, the boy had forgotten about comics and superheroes.

And then an accidental mishap on a field trip had given him superpowers, and Tony Stark, also known as _freaking Iron Man_ had given him a suit and taken him to Germany to fight some rouge Avengers, led by none other then Captain America from his comics. He’d stolen his shield, gotten heavily bruised and watched as their team was taken done one by one. Peter had been sent home after that. It was another year before he saw Captain America again.

~

Peter Parker, part-time superhero, full-time teenager, was slumped in his seat, watching the clock in his history classroom tick by. His suit was on underneath his long sleeved shirt and pants – he’d been hoping to combat a boring day with swinging across the city, webbing up criminals.

He startled as his pocket vibrated. Tony Stark’s caller ID popped up on his phone screen, and he hurried to silence it. “Can I go to the bathroom?” Peter asked his teacher, who was very clearly watching a movie on her laptop. She nodded and he sprinted out, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Underoos,” Iron Man’s voice filtered through his phone, “I’m gonna need you to be outside the school in, like, thirty seconds.”

Peter swept his stuff from his locker into his bag, power-walking down the hallway. “Why? Is there a mission? I’m in third period, Mr. Stark, I can’t just leave-“ The billionare cut him off. “I’ve called the front office, you’re probably free to go. I don’t know how schools work. I’ll see you soon, kiddo.” With that, he hung up. Peter shoved his phone in his pocket, zipping it up and running faster. _Mr. Stark needs me!_

Happy Hogan’s car was sitting in the car park, driver’s seat window rolled down. “Hurry up,” He snapped, not at all Happy. Peter suppressed a giggle and climbed into the back seat, clicking his seatbelt on. “What’s happening?”

“There’s a…thing,” Happy stated, speeding. “You’re gonna need your suit.”

“Already got it,” Peter replied, his voice muffled by the mask he was busy donning. “What’s the situation?”   


“Some pissed-off scientist taking his wrath out on the Avengers,” Happy muttered, turning left so sharply Peter thudded against the glass window.

“All of them?” The teenager asked. Happy shot him a glare.

“All of them.”

~

“Hi, Mr. Stark!”

Peter webbed in, soaring over a street crowded with abandoned cars and taxis, landing roughly on a rooftop terrace and sending gravel flying.

“Hey, Underoos,” Iron Man flew past, landing beside him. His helmet popped up, revealing a tired face and bloodshot eyes. “Some science man thought it would be an absolute blast to synthesise prehistoric cows and let them loose all over the city. Capsicle re-emerged from the ice once again to save the day.”

“Why do you need me, then?” Spider-man asked, surveying the ground. The “prehistoric cattle” Tony was talking about were, in fact, bus-sized reptilian-looking monsters, who were busy taking chunks out of buildings and trying to make an Avenger sandwich between a slab of drywall and an office whiteboard. He could see a frustrated-looking Captain America in the distance, leaping off walls dramatically and slamming his shield into the skulls of the creatures. Black Widow was on a rooftop nearby, Falcon was soaring aimlessly behind her. _Was that Hawkeye? Scarlet Witch?_

“Because, as usual, Capsicle’s got no clue what he’s doing.”   


As if to prove a point, one of the creatures the super-soldier was fighting threw him roughly into a building, breaking numerous walls and shattering the third-floor windows. Peter leapt off the building, webbing closer to the herd. “Karen, what’s the most effective way to take them down?”   


“I’ve never seen these before, Peter,” His AI admitted, “I would advise web grenades. They seem to be attacking with their mouths – aim there.”

Spider-man flipped through the air, landing not-very gracefully on his ankle. He ignored the pain and shot a web grenade at the nearest creature, which flailed awkwardly and fell into three other monsters who slumped against the concrete. “Mr. Stark! Go for the mouths!” He yelled into his mask.

“Stark – Is that the kid from Germany?” Black Widow’s voice filtered through the channel, sounding annoyed. “This is no place for a child.” “I’m not a child!” Peter webbed up another monster. Someone snorted and he sighed. _Yeah, sure, I’m not an adult but that doesn’t mean I can’t do my job,_ Peter thought, exasperated.  

“Queens?” Someone called, not inside his suit. Steve Rogers was fighting multiple beasts at once, his vibranium shield cutting through the scaly skin with ease. “What – where’d you come from?”

“Nunya!” Peter webbed together two beasts, attaching the web to a prehistoric cow springing in the opposite direction. It dragged the two others along, wiping out other ‘cattle’ charging through the pile-up of abandoned cars. Steve flung his shield after them, watching it ricochet along walls and bury itself into the dinosaur skulls. “Nunya…what?”

The teenager shushed his inner fanboy. _Sure, Captain America’s acknowledging my presence, but he’s still kind of an idiot,_ Peter thought, and then cursed himself for calling a superhero an idiot. “Nunya business!” He replied, grinning. “Web grenade!” _That never gets old._

“Kid, this is dangerous. I don’t know what Tony’s been telling you-“

Peter had been raised well – Richard and Mary Parker had taught him to be polite and so had May and Ben. He’d never spoken out of line, raised his voice at adults and tried his hardest to respect his elders. But Captain America, glorified hero, had left his mentor for death in Siberia – he’d seen the files – and he didn’t really want to disguse his hatred. Ever-loyal to Tony Stark, Peter shot him a glare and left him to fend off the beasts. “Which nursing home did you break out of? I think it’s time for your nap, Captain.”

Nobody spoke on the channels. The only sound was distant crashes and roars. “Shit, Cap, you need some ice for that burn?” Natasha laughed.

“That’s my kid,” Tony said proudly.

~

You could cut the tension with a knife. The Rouge Avengers stood as far apart as they could from the other side, leaning against a partially destroyed office building. Desks were strewn everywhere, computer cables lining the floor, smothered in drywall dust. Everyone was seated, slumped on piles of debris or remaining chairs, masks off, weapons down. Peter kept his mask on.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked blearily, watching Clint show Natasha pictures of his children excitedly. “You’ll have to come over for dinner soon, Nat,” He was saying.

“My job,” Stated Steve. “Look, Tony, I get that we’ve had arguments, but-“

“No buts, Capsicle. Tony’s reserved for friends, which you aren’t.”

Steve rested his face in his hands, sighing. “Stark, can we call a truce, or something? The world doesn’t need its protectors fighting.”

“Cool, yeah. Let’s just forget Sibera happened.” Steve flinched. “Or, y’know, you keeping my Mum’s death a secret. Real classy. Deserves a truce, yeah?”

Natasha and Clint abandoned the phone. Black Widow looked entertained but concerned, as if she were a kindergarten teacher watching a petty fight go down. Steve opened his mouth again. Before he could even think, a web shot out from Peter’s webshooters, sealing Captain America’s mouth closed. Iron Man let out a genuine laugh. The Scarlet Witch snorted, Hawkeye giggling so hard he was crying in the corner of the room.

“That – was epic,” He chortled, gasping for breath. Wanda flicked her hand, and the web floated uselessly to the floor.

Steve looked mildly annoyed. “That was unnecessary, kid.” He turned to Tony, glaring. “Why’d you even bring a kid to fight? He’s, what, thirteen?”

“He’s got a better moral compass than you, for starters,” Natasha laughed.

“I’m fifteen,” The teenager said, waving goodbye to Mr. Stark and shooting a web through the shattered window to the opposing grey building. “It was nice meeting you, Captain America!”


	2. Two Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Man meets Black Widow properly, ft. a couple of other childish Avengers.

Peter was acutely aware of how much it cost his Aunt May for him to live with her. She had never had kids of her own with Uncle Ben – yet willingly took him in at a young age at payed for everything he needed. She payed for his phone, his school needs and food regardless of the fact she was the only source of income in their small but costly Queens apartment. Which is exactly why Peter smiled and said it was fine for her to cancel their weekly movie night so she could work a weekend shift.

“You go – I’ll be fine here,” He’d grinned, swallowing his disappointment as she donned her blue medical scrubs.

“I’m sure you will,” She’d smirked back, “At the Avengers tower.”

“What?! May, no,” He’d protested, regretting giving her Mr. Stark’s number but already ushering him out the door.

Now, Peter stood awkwardly infront of the looming building, his hands curled around the straps of his full backpack. He hoped it was just Mr. Stark inside – knowing his Parker luck, it probably wasn’t.

~

“Hey FRIDAY,” Peter asked as he slid into the sleek silver elevator after dumping his backpack the empty common room, “Is Mr. Stark home?”

“Boss is currently on the 87th floor, in a video call. Would you like me to notify him of your arrival?”

“Nononono, don’t disturb him, Fri. Uh – can I go to the training room, please?” Peter fiddled the edge of his mask. He wanted to work on his punches and lying to an Avenger probably wasn’t going to go down well.

“Sure, Peter.” As the elevator dropped slowly to a lower floor, the teenager removed his battered phone from his pocket and checked his messages. There was a message from the groupchat he had with Ned and MJ – Ned had send a picture of an adorable squirrel. Peter send back a smiley-face emoji and stepped out of the doors, striding over to the gym and glancing up at the boxing gear.

“FRIDAY,” He asked, wrapping his hands and slipping the cool mask onto his face, ”Play a cool playlist.”

“Boss’s work playlist is titled _The Coolest Playlist You’ll Ever Hear_ , would you like to listen to that?”

The spiderling snorted. “Sure.”

The gym had to be the coolest room in the tower – it had the best, top-of-the-line machines, weights, bags and technology. Floor to ceiling windows displayed a perfect scene of tall, brightly-lit skyscrapers and blue sea. Crash mats basically lined the floor – Peter was sure he could fall asleep here. He watched the orange sun dim behind heavily tinted windows from the corner of his eye, hitting the black punching bag with enough force to send a grown man flying. Tony’s playlist changed from an aggressive ACDC song to something softer and the teenager stopped boxing to watch the view.

“Hi there, Spider-Man.”

Peter jumped, a yelp escaping his lips. Instinctively, his body moved on its own, leaping towards the ceiling for refuge. The teenager looked down at the intruder and was suddenly very thankful for his mask – Superspy Natasha Romanoff, also known as _the_ Black Widow was leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She wore a leather jacket and a smirk. “Jesus,” Peter cried, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Never been called Jesus before,” She quipped. “We haven’t seen you since you roasted Steve so hard he had to crawl back into the ice for another seventy years. It’s been months – where’ve you been?”

 _I’ve been checking my phone every day, sending updates to Happy and Mr. Stark, where have you been?_ Peter thought. “I don’t usually crime-fight with the Avengers. I’m a solo act,” He grinned, gracefully dropping from the ceiling infront of the woman. She laughed. “How are we supposed to recruit you if I’ve never seen your face?”

“Recruit me?” On the inside, Peter was screaming. Spider-Man on the outside laughed. “You can recruit me if you can get my mask off.” _Where is all this confidence coming from?_ He wondered.

“Oh, you’re on.” She lunged forward – twisting towards him, her nimble hands outstretched. “Come here, bug-boy!”

Peter turned and leaped, using his abilities to his advantage. Every time Natasha tried to grab him, his Spidey-Sense would alert him and he’d roll to the other side. As she jumped for his left, he leapt for the right, only to bang into a leg-press machine, which the spy ran towards. He wormed out of her grasp only to have his knees kicked out from under him.

 “Got you now, Spider-Man,” She said triumphantly. His brain took this exact moment to coax his two remaining brain cells into working. Peter shot a web onto Black Widow’s outstretched hand and connected it to the ceiling. She jerked back, her slender legs dangling. “Oh, come on,” Natasha rolled her eyes. “That’s cheating.”

“We never discussed rules!” Peter pointed out and she chuckled. “True, true.” He ripped the web off and she expertly landed in a crouch. Her narrow eyes trailed to his wrapped hands and the punching bag strung up next to the windows. “How do you punch?”

“What?”

Natasha picked herself up from the floor, crossing the room in two strides. “Show me your stance,” She commanded. Peter blinked, shifting his body into position and moving his closed fists. “Good,” Black Widow muttered, adjusting his hands. She looked like she’d done this sort of thing before. “Move your back leg – there.” She squared up, bouncing on the soles of her feet. “Hit me.” “I – what?”

“Hit me, Spider-boy.” Peter tentatively threw a punch. She rolled her eyes and he hit back harder. Natasha mirrored his stance. “You’re like Steve, right? Super-strength?” She waited for the teenager to nod and continued. “In the unlikely event of someone fighting back with a strength that matches yours, you’d probably fall over. Go wider – yeah, like that.” Black Widow held the black punching bag and smiled. “So,” She asked, watching the teen land an uppercut, “Why do you never take the mask off?”

 _Why do I never take the mask off?_ Peter. _You’d all think I was a joke._

Sure, the Avengers knew he was young and a nerd, but would they judge him if they knew he still went to high school? If they _really_ knew him? Peter Parker was a full-time loser with a grand total of two friends and twelve contacts in his phone, who lived with his Aunt because the rest of his family was dead, who didn’t stand up to bullies and went to AcaDec nationals instead of football games and parties, but Spider-Man was a famous superhero who saved the day. Spider-Man was cool, brave and everything that normal Peter wasn’t. How was he supposed to tell an Avenger it gave Peter an opportunity to be liked – to be popular, admired?

“It’s called a secret identity for a reason,” He quipped, swallowing his tongue. Suddenly, the back of his neck prickled. Down the hall he could hear approaching footsteps. “Someone’s coming.”

Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed, but sure enough the gym door swung open to reveal the silhouettes of three men – Hawkeye, War Machine and Mr. Stark. _Wait – holy shit, War Machine?_

“What are you two doing? Spinning a web?” Tony sniggered. Next to him, Colonel Rhodes shook his head and sighed through his nose like a disappointed parent. Hawkeye strode past him, smirking.

“I heard our reining king of roasts was in the building,” Hawkeye high-fived the stunned teenager. “Dunno if I ever introduced myself – I’m Clint.” The spy turned and pointed at War Machine and Tony. “That’s Rhodes – Rhodey, grumpy old bum – and Tony, or Mr. Stark,” He giggled, adding the last part in a high-pitched voice that definitely did not resemble Peter’s at all.

“Shut it, Legolas, or I’ll make Nat beat you up,” Tony instructed, but he was smiling. “Hey, Underoos.”

“Hi, Mr. Stark!”

Clint looked pointedly at Tony, wordlessly conveying his point. The billionaire pointed at Romanoff, his eyebrows raised, and Clint scrunched up his face, pouting childishly. “Rude,” He said, glaring at Tony. His eyes moved to Spider-Man. “I introduce myself and I don’t even get a name? Where are your manners, Jesus Christ.”

Peter sighed as everyone chuckled. “Seriously – I thought the Avengers were supposed to be smart. What part of secret identity do you not understand?”

The room buzzed with laughter. Peter’s chest grew warm – he could see why Mr. Stark spoke so fondly of them all – even if Clint was on the wrong side. They all acted like a family. When the team was together, they stopped the constant fighting and brought out the best in one another. The spiderling’s mood dampened as he remembered Captain America and his friend.

“I like him,” Natasha threw an arm around Peter’s thin shoulders, jerking him out of his thoughts. “I’m keeping him.”

“Mama Spider!” Rhodey cheered. Black Widow fixed him with a glare so frightening he immediately shut up. “Um – drinks, anyone?” Tony laughed, striding out of the room, followed by a still-pouting Hawkeye.

Black Widow and Spider-Man walked out of the gym doors together. She shot him a friendly grin through her ginger locks, leaning forward out of their embrace to press the silver elevator button. “Come on then, маленький паук.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg thank u all for reading and commenting :)


	3. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avengers + Ice-Cream = One big, happy birthday.

“Happy birthday to me,” Sung Peter, crawling out of his unlocked bedroom window and crawling up the side of the apartment block to the roof

Peter had decided his birthday gift to himself was backflipping across jet black skies at midnight, swinging metres above the hustle and bustle of the city, patrolling alleyways in a suit loved by millions. _What fifteen year old wouldn’t want this?_ He wondered, and then with a smile, remembered he was sixteen now. If May or Mr. Stark called and asked why he was up so late, he’d tell them it was his birthday. Nobody can get angry at you on your birthday.

“Happy birthday, Peter,” Karen greeted him as he slipped on the mask, attaching a web to a nearby building and swinging over.

“Hey Karen,” He replied, grinning. “Thanks.”

“You have two unread messages – one from Ned Leeds and one from Tony Stark. Would you like me to read them?”

“Sure, Karen.”

There was a pause as Karen read the messages. Spider-Man front flipped onto a web strung between two buildings, closing his eyes and tip-toeing across the line as if it were a tightrope. “Sent at 00:05, Ned wrote ‘Happy sixteenth Peter! You’re gonna have to drive me around now’.  At 00:07, Tony Stark wrote ‘Happy birthday kiddo. Have a good day, I’ll see you later tonight.’ Would you like me to reply?”

“Nah, it’s all good.” Peter smiled. “Scan for bad guys, Karen.”

Following Karen’s illuminated path, the teenager swung over street lights. The streets were mostly quiet, with the exception of night-shift workers and tired businessmen and women. Someone whooped out his superhero name and his grin widened.

Karen had directed him to the corner of a dimly-lit McDonald’s in the dead centre of numerous law firms and investment companies. Behind the bright yellow sign Peter could make out a shadow of a towering man, yelling at a figure. “Hey!” He called, webbing his hand to the window behind him. “Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?”

The man scowled. With his free hand, he raised a finger at the vigilante. He webbed it up, turning to the distraught elderly man behind him. “What a kind young man,” He said.

“Thankyou, sir,” Spider-Man responded, ushering him out of the dark street and waiting for Karen to call the police. “You can go home, now.”

As the senior toddled off onto the safer street, his walker dragging in front of him, Peter pulled out his phone.

 **00:56:** _Peter Parker - > Ned Leeds_:

hey man thanks :) ill see u tonight yeah?

Not expecting a response this early in the morning, Peter shut his phone off and stowed it away in his suit pocket. Ned would have gone to sleep the moment after he send Peter a birthday message.  He didn’t text Tony, knowing full well the man would harass him if he knew he was up.

“Peter, you instructed me to alert you if there was a rouge Avenger sighting nearby. I do believe I’ve spotted the Falcon a mile away from here, if you would like to head there now.”

“W-what?” He spluttered, following Karen’s commands and double tapping his web-shooters. “What the hell is Falcon doing in Queens?”

“I’m not sure, Peter,” His AI admitted softly, directing a path for the spiderling to follow. “I would advise calling Mr. Stark for help.”

Peter scaled the side of a glass building, leaping over the air vents on top and diving straight down for the next building. Karen continued talking at his lack of response. “Ms. Romanoff or Mr. Barton would also suffice.”

The teenager blinked, trying to remember who Mr. Barton was. _Clint!_ His brain supplied, remembering the excited archer, who remained close to the remaining Avengers even though he picked the wrong side. Peter couldn’t call him – he’d either tease him or tell a shitty Dad joke. He was technically still sided with Captain America, which quickly ruled him out of the equation. He couldn’t call Mr. Stark – he’d already been hurt badly by the Captain and he wasn’t about to let that happen again. Which left Black Widow.

“Call Ms. Natasha, please.” Peter breathed. There was a pause before the scratchy sound of her dial tone patched through. _Damnit, this was a bad idea, Peter, you probably woke her up._

“Hello?”

“Ms. Romanoff? I’m sorry to wake you up, but I kind of need your help.”

“Spider-Man?” There was a sharp sound on the other end, followed by the rustle of clothing and the jingle of keys. “I wasn’t asleep. What’s wrong?” “Karen spotted Falcon not too far from where I patrol. I’m headed there now.” He explained. Peter paused for breath, leaning against a fire escape door. He was not made for sprints, even after the spider bite.

“Send me your location. Who’s Karen?” Black Widow’s voice was patchy for a second, and then clearer. Peter could hear the distinct hum of a motorbike.

“My AI. Are you coming?”

“Gotta back up my fellow spider,” He could hear her smile. “Tell anyone I said that and you’re dead faster than you can say ‘Pest Control.’”

“Sure – but I don’t need you to come, I just – I’m not sure how to handle this –“

“Which is why I’m coming. You’re just a kid, Spider-Man. Be careful.” And with that, the superspy hung up. Peter kicked a vent, sighing through his mask. The next person to call him a kid was going to get punched.

~

“I’m going back to the farm.”

Clint Barton kicked the back of Steve’s seat, watching his head swivel around. “What?”  


“I said, I’m going home. I’ve got a family there, Steve.” 

Wanda sighed. Steve had been particularly upset since leaving Bucky in Wakanda – another team member parting probably wasn’t great for his current mood. Wanda could understand where he was coming from. He was losing a man he loved like a sibling for the third or fourth time – the only person who had stayed with him since birth. She exchanged a look with Sam, the second bird-man. They’d bonded over the past couple of months – he’d helped her heal where she thought was broken forever.

“That’s,” Captain America stumbled over words, his face falling, “That’s fine.” He stopped, swallowing. “Are you, uh, leaving the team?”

“I’m done, man. I’ve got kids, a wife. They don’t want this. I can’t bring this home with me.”

Wanda raised her head to the sky, eager for a distraction. The black clouds,  almost invisible against the equally as dark sky thundered past, obscuring the moon for a second. When they parted, she was sure she saw a blue and red head pop up from over the ledge of the neighbouring towers. Her fingers twitched, red encircling them.

“Steve,” She whispered, “We’ve got company.”

Her sentence was punctuated by a blur of red and blue swinging past, a redheaded woman with him. They dropped from the sky and Wanda got a glance of who they were – the teenage vigalene from the airport and Natasha Romanoff, superspy Black Widow. Spider-Man’s right hand was attached to a thin string, his left around the woman.

Sam beside her let out an odd noise – a mixture between a pained moan and a disappointed sigh. “Have I ever mentioned I hate spiders?”

~

Most kids got a cake for their birthdays. A party or a cool gift, maybe. Peter got a surprise visit from four Rouge Avengers.

Sure, patrol was often boring and he was often found asking Mr. Stark if he could do bigger things apart from the occasional once-in-a-lifetime mission, but he really didn’t mean messing with Captain America and his magic friends without the man in the tin can’s help. Peter didn’t really know Cap, or The Scarlet Witch and the Falcon, and he wasn’t sure what they would do without Tony present.

“Hey guys,” He chirped, hoping his voice didn’t give away the fear he was trying to swallow, “Long time no see!”

“It’s not a play date, bug-boy. Geez, New York is looking pretty infested these days.” The Falcon sighed, his hand resting on his holster. “Should I call extermination?”

Natasha gestured to the array of pistols and Widow Bites resting on her belt. “Leave the comebacks to Spidey, bird brains.”

“Why are you guys in Queens? You should – you could be anywhere but here. Literally. Go to Bali, go hang out in Sydney. Just – why here?”

“We’ve got lives in America, kiddo,” Hawkeye poked his head out of the van, waving at Peter.

Nat dropped her hands at the sight of Clint and her face softened. “Hey Clint! I’ve missed you – all of you.” Hawkeye jumped out of the van, tackling Black Widow in a hug. “So have we. Laura says hi, by the way.” Natasha brightened at this, hugging Clint back and pulling Steve in. Peter’s mouth opened and closed awkwardly.

“Who’s side are you on, Nat?” He asked. The superspy turned away from Steve Rogers, brushing her locks out of her eyes. Peter fiddled with his phone in his pocket, sending a text to Iron Man. He hoped it was decipherable – he couldn’t see the keys.

“Both sides have made mistakes, Spidey. I’ve got friends in both teams.” Suddenly, Black Widow looked very tired. Peter wondered how many nights of sleep she had lost fighting for both sides. Looking out for the other side even though they were halfway across the world. Steve seemed to catch onto his train of thought, and he turned to Natasha, grinning. “Hey, guess what.” He didn’t wait for her to guess, launching into speech. “We’ve been pardoned – we’ve still gotta sort out the accords problem, but we can come home, Nat.”

The superspy beamed. “Oh, my god! that’s great guys. I’ll talk to Tony, see if we can get you back in the tower.”

Peter shook his head underneath the mask. “Mr. Stark’s not gonna like this.”

Captain America deflated, leaning against the van. “It’s not an excuse, kid,” He breathed out, hands in pockets, “But when I came out of the ice, I had no-one. Everyone had died or grown old, and I was all alone. And then I found out my best friend in the world was still alive, and I was going to do everything in my power to get him back. I just, uh, made a lot of mistakes on the way.”

Peter swallowed. “I’m sorry, Cap.” Before the super solider could respond, there was a crinkling sound of flames followed by the distinct whirr of Tony’s suit. A brand new, gold and red suit of armour shone under the dirty streetlights. The cold glow of his miniaturized Arc Reactor shone in Captain America’s face. “This is kind of touching.” He turned to Peter. “Happy birthday, P- Spider-Man.”

“It’s your birthday?” Clint squealed, whirling around to face him. Natasha followed suit. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked.

“Uhh..”

“How old are you?” Captain America questioned, smiling. “Twenty? Twenty-one?”

Peter felt his face grow hot underneath the mask. “Sure,” He supplied helpfully.

“As much I would like to lock all of you up, I’ve been notified you’re all pardoned. Which is fun.” He flipped up his face plate. “What I can do, however, is take you out for ice-cream.” Tony smiled at Peter, his eyes crinkling.

“It’s one in the morning?” The super soldier interrupted, confused.

“Chill, Frosty.” Tony sighed, faceplate lifting up. “Listen – I’ll talk, er, later. Come on, kid.”

“Hey!” Hawkeye interrupted, pouting childishly. To his left, Natasha sighed loudly. “I want ice-cream!”

“Are you serious?” The Falcon asked, his eyes rolling. “We’ve been mortal enemies of this man for months now and after five seconds of forgiveness you’re already demanding ice-cream?”

Ten minutes later, the soldier held a melting mint-chocolate ice-cream in his hand. The group were sitting wordlessly in a still-open parlour, the shopkeepers looking on, astounded. Wanda’s cone was floating dangerously over Steve’s head, dripping dairy in his golden hair. Captain America sighed, glaring playfully at his vanilla cup with traces of waffle cone, courtesy of the Scarlet Witch. Peter’s mask was rolled up. The corners of his mouth twitched up; this had to be the best birthday ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading sorry I took so long to update this I don't even know what to write so im spewing out random bullshit and hoping for the best thanks :)


	4. Moving Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> captain America gets schooled

Peter was buzzing. This week had been amazing. There was a new Lego Star Wars set out, which Tony had bought him for his birthday. He’d had ice-cream with the _literal Avengers_ (war criminals he’d openly badmouthed or not, that was still pretty freaking cool) and MJ had sat next to him in AcaDec practice three times in a row.

But Monday was rolling around, and the word ‘Monday’ always came in a package neatly wrapped by chaos himself. Chaos just happened to appear in the form of Mr. Rodgermerica himself, who was currently staring at him through the grainy television set in the mostly empty detention room.

“So,” The super-soldier said. _My ears are bleeding._ “You got detention.”

He hadn’t meant to get detention – to be fair, did anyone ever, really? But Principal Morita had somehow chosen to walk around the corner just as Peter pushed Flash back from where said boy had been shoving him into the nearest locker. And so, he had detention after school, which cancelled his plans of webbing to the Avengers Tower to check on Mr. Stark. The Avengers were moving in today, and the teenager knew it was going to be hard for him. _Thanks, school._

“Sup, loser,” The door flung open to reveal MJ, who blew her trademark curls out of her eyes and sat down next to him, crisis journal in hand. “You have detention,” She mimicked, flipping the bird at the box television and grinning.

Peter wondered absently if Mr. Stark knew about the PSAs. Maybe that’d cheer him up. “You don’t.”

“Never stopped me. What’d you do this time, Parker?” She raised an eyebrow.

The room was empty, save the teacher who was watching Titanic on his laptop with his headphones plugged in. “Pushed Flash. In self-defence,” He added hastily.

MJ opened her book to a half-drawn page, nodding. “Please get a photo of this idiot in peril. He would make a fantastic addition to my collection,” She gestured to the television without looking up.

“Sure,” Peter laughed, recollecting Cap’s reddened face in Queens and New York. “Wait – I don’t know Cap – what? MJ?”

The girl in question winked, collecting her things and striding out of the room without another word. “Take it from someone who’s been locked in the ice for seventy years,” The TV chimed in helpfully. Peter glanced at the teacher supervising. He could hear screams and depressing music emitting from his headphones and decided he was well and truly into the ending and wouldn’t pause it for the world. He followed MJ out of the room, running up the deserted hallway to catch up with her.

“Chill, Parker,” She laughed. “Don’t you have to go hang out with your Dad at your internship or something?    


“No – what?”

“See you around, bug-boy!” MJ called over her shoulder, throwing her bag onto her back and pushing the school doors open, her converse squeaking. Peter stared blankly at the spot she had been, blinking hard. “Way to ruin my good streak,” He whispered, fumbling for his web shooters in his pants pocket. “Thanks, Monday.”

~

“Hey, Spider-Man.” Peter fell gracefully through the open window in the Avengers tower, rolling over on his back. The Falcon stared down at him, snorting. He shifted a heavy-looking box labelled _Sam_ in chicken-scratch handwriting into his left hand and used his right to pull the boy up. “You live here too?”

“Sup, bird-brains.” The spiderling dusted himself off, attempting to lower his voice as much as possible. “Secret identity, remember?”

“Only ‘Tasha calls he bird brains and lives to tell the tale,” The Avenger’s threat is empty; he’s grinning widely. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Peter hears Clint mumble from somewhere up in the vents.

“Where’s the rest of the team?” He asked.

“They pissed off somewhere,” Sam grumbled, marching towards the elevator, “The super-soldiers with super-human strength left me, a normal, human person, to carry boxes.”

“Oof,” Peter sympathised. “Want me to carry that for you?” He called, but Sam was already inside the elevator. Falcon shrugged at the teenager as the silver doors closed.

“What the fuck, Richard,” Spider-Man whispered, jumping to the ceiling and crawling over to the hopefully Hawkeye-less vents. He had been in them before – once Clint left a twinkie up there and it went bad surprisingly quickly. Peter snorted, remembering the plastic bags he taped to his hands to get rid of the cake.

Through the vents he can see Tony. He’s standing in the centre of the common room, drink in his left hand. His right raises awkwardly to his pocket and then flops uselessly by his side; he’s clearly uncomfortable.

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” Peter dropped from the vent. Tony screamed, apple juice flying everywhere. “What the fuck, Pete?” He cursed, pulling the boy in for a hug. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, Tony,” The boy whispered back, glancing at the liquid all over the billionaire’s expensive carpet. “I’m sorry about your carpet. Where do you keep your cleaning stuff?”

“Kid, it’s fine. I can get someone to clean it.” The man offered a smile, but it’s shaky and it disappears from his face just as quickly as it came. Peter squeezed Tony into another hug. “I’ve got something to show you-“

He’s cut off by the back of his neck prickling. Footsteps approach from down the hall. “Someone’s coming,” Peter mumbled, detaching himself from Tony’s arms.

Steve Rodgers and James Buchanan Barnes file into the room. They’re shadowed by a girl a few years older than Peter himself – Wanda Maximoff.  Sam, Clint and Natasha followed, laughing. “His name’s Pete?” Clint asked, marching over to the fridge and throwing the door open.

“Allegedly,” The billionaire responded curtly, his hand sneaking around the spiderling’s shoulders protectively. “Is everyone right to tuck themselves in or do I need to call Ross to do it?”

Natasha snorted. “C’mon Stark, play nice.”

Peter glanced up at the man in question through his mask. He didn’t look anything like his normal guarded self but more of a deflated mess, and clearly the Avengers weren’t catching on. He met Wanda’s eyes from across the room and took in her worried expression. Clearly controlling

everything in sight with her mind wasn’t her only superpower – she seemed to be the only person on the Rouge’s team with empathetic abilities.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, I’ve got a cool-“

“How’ve you been, Spider-Man?” Captain America asked, grabbing a drink from the fridge and steering Clint away from the hot chocolate. “Not before dinner,” He chastised the fully-grown man, putting the container on the highest shelf.

“Fine,” Peter replied steely. In the corner of his eye, Wanda winced, and the boy briefly wondered if she could hear his internal screaming at the super soldier.

“Ooh, look out, Cap, you’re about to get roasted. Tony, you should go get a jar for the spider, it escaped again.” Sam laughed. Peter supressed a giggle – Sam was good at comebacks. Beside him, the genius let out a sigh and glanced down at the teenager, awaiting his next move. Natasha’s trained eyes focused on his suit, and Peter realised they were all waiting for him to direct a snarky comment at Captain America.

“Oh, wow, do you all keep me around for my roasts?” The room laughed and Tony grinned genuinely. _Well, if it’s gonna cheer up Mr. Stark, I may as well._ Everyone fell quiet as Peter spoke his next words. “Cap, you do everything your PSAs say not to.”

Steve Rodgers turned white.

~

“Hi, I’m Captain America. Whether you’re a student, or a soldier, there’s one thing that will always give you an edge: a hot lunch.”

Natasha Romanoff, a trained superspy and assassin burst into tears, clutching her chest and heaving out laughs as Clint beside her banged his palm on the table in outrage. “Holy fuck,” He chortled. “Hooooly fuck!”

Sam Wilson was screaming, downloading all the videos Peter had spent the last half-hour showing them all. Wanda had tears streaming down her face; she was giggling so hard Peter was sure she was going to rupture something. But best of all was Tony – he had abandoned his shielded expression to roll around on the floor killing himself with laughter as Captain America’s photoshopped face floated through high schools around over stock photos.

Peter stared at the superheroes and a very mortified one-hundred-year-old man _. Mission accomplished._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this is bad check out my far from home fic instead

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this was Bad


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